


A Blessing in Disguise

by Impala_Chick



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, England (Country), Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 23:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6727531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/pseuds/Impala_Chick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne is somehow transported forward in time instead of facing death. She thinks she's cursed, but then she discovers the reason someone made her a time traveler.</p><p>Written for A_War_of_Roses challenge "back to the future".</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Blessing in Disguise

Anne’s eyelids were squeezed shut and her arms were outstretched in front of her, awaiting impending doom. Then in the next instant, she felt as if the air had been sucked away and her body was being compacted in a vice. The noises of the crowd completely faded away and the silence was deafening to her ears. Then, she felt herself lurching forward and she began free-falling into an indeterminate black space.

When she felt cold stone beneath her fingers, she slowly opened her eyes. The last thing she remembered was the whistle of the axe as the headsman swung it through the air towards her neck, and she frantically touched her head and neck as she stood up. 

Everything seemed to be intact. She was wearing the same plain purple dress and white head scarf she had worn to her beheading. 

This was not how she imagined dying.

She looked down and noticed the white and black checkered tiles that lined the floor. Her eyes followed the pattern all the way down the hall, which ended with large stained glass windows and golden arches. The wooden paneling along the hall was ornately carved, and soft light illuminated the archways and glinted off the windows. She sucked in a breath. She was in Westminster Abbey, there was no mistaking it.

A few commoners walked around her and she tried very hard not to stare at them. She expected them sneer at her, but instead they barely noticed her. A woman walked by to gaze at the stained glass window, and she was wearing some sort of men’s outfit. Tight pants that looked highly uncomfortable clung to her legs. Her strides were long, as if nothing constricted her gate. What’s more, her hair was completely pulled back from her face and gathered at the top of her head with no adornments. Anne could hardly believe her eyes. How could such a strange woman be allowed into Westminster Abbey?

“Excuse me, good lady. What day is today?” Anne called out to the woman in man’s clothes.

“It’s April 28. Cool costume, by the way.” The woman started to retreat from the Abbey. Anne was confused by the woman’s reference to costume but pressed on.

“Yes, but what year?” 

“Uh, 2016.” Now the woman looked downright frightened, and hurried out of the room. Anne looked after her, sad that she may have lost her only guide to this strange place.

2016? Impossible. 

Anne refrained from dissolving into a mass of confusion when some male commoners walked into the Abbey. Where they looking for some sort of blessing from The King? 

Before she could approach them, one of the men turned to his companion.

“Dude, we need to see Queen Elizabeth’s grave!” The men hurriedly walked back out of the room.They were clearly quite strange and could not have been English, given how they had spoken, but Anne was intrigued. Where they talking about _her_ Elizabeth? She followed them out of the room, hoping they would lead her to her daughter.

She quietly followed behind them, at a loss for what else to do. It was completely improbable that instead of being killed, she had gone forward in time. Maybe she was hallucinating? Maybe she was still at the Tower, writhing in her sleep. Everyone was probably condemning her as a mad woman, if they hadn’t already. Either that, or a witch had cursed her or a demon had brought her straight to hell. At that thought, she couldn’t help but blame Henry. Her hatred for him welled up inside of her and threatened to suffocate her. This had to be his fault. He had ruined everything. 

She dutifully trudged on, her thoughts echoing in her head. The boys stopped at the Lady Chapel, and Anne immediately felt a connection to the place. Their murmuring faded away as Anne stepped forward into the room. 

Elizabeth’s grand tomb stood before her. Her daughter’s face was carved in stone and carved jewels adorned her stone body. Elizabeth was wearing elaborate and beautiful robes and she lay upon an ornate pillow. Upon her was a beautiful golden crown, still shining.

Tears sprung to Anne’s eyes as she reached out to touch her daughter’s effigy. Anne couldn’t help but be moved by the sight of her daughter interned forever at Westminster Abbey. _She must have been someone great_ , Anne thought.

She looked up when she realized the two commoner boys from before were looking at her strangely. 

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” one of them said shyly. 

“Do you know who Elizabeth is?” she asked them urgently. She suddenly did not care about her own situation - she wanted to know about Elizabeth.

“Queen Elizabeth I? Sure, everyone does. Her memorial is in the museum, it’s pretty cool,” the boy offered, still clearly a little put-off by Anne’s appearance. She was confused as to why the boy was referring to the temperature, but at any rate that did not matter to Anne.

“Will you take me, good sir?” Anne beseeched him, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Uh, sure.” The boys scurried off and Anne followed close behind. Maybe this wasn’t a curse. Maybe this was a charm, a blessing in disguise. Maybe an angel had been watching over her after all. 

When they reached the museum, she walked to where they had indicated. She bowed gently in thanks. The two boys scurried away and Anne was reminded that not everyone could be a noble. She appreciated them all the same.

Anne easily translated the Latin upon the memorial and was astounded that her daughter had been Queen for 45 years. One of the lines struck her particularly, and she made a note to thank whichever scribe had come up with such wonderful language.

_Mother of her country, a nursing-mother to religion and all liberal sciences, skilled in many languages, adorned with excellent endowments both of body and mind, and excellent for princely virtues beyond her sex._

Anne was beside herself with joy and pride. This opportunity had been a blessing, indeed.


End file.
